#kael rambles

[batbabydamian]

December/Early January DC Solicitations are out! There’s a couple of Damian features!

Batman - Santa Claus: Silent Knight #4 - 12/26/2023

It's a Christmas Night Fight: The search for a stolen child leads to Santa versus Krampus in the final, climactic battle for the soul of Christmas! The Justice League are stretched thin battling the mightiest monsters of the ages when the true menace is revealed!

Damian’s shown in the preview of #1 out in November, but not sure if he's in #2 and #3. ALSO ANOTHER DAN MORA DAMIAN!! although he’s chained up 😭 FREE HIM

Batman and Robin #4 - 12/12/2023

Batman and Robin have been separated! Batman works with White Rabbit to track down the new femme fatale Shush while his son, Damian, hunts down the criminal mastermind who is targeting his father! But Damian won't like who he finds! Don't miss out on the shocking ending!

Covers in order - Simone Di Meo, Kael Ngu, David Finch, and Gleb Melnikov (the non-Santa is a 1:25 variant)! There’s black and white versions of Ngu and Di Meo’s covers as 1:50 and 1:100 variants

Wonder Woman #4 - 12/19/2023

With the world losing trust in the Amazons, Wonder Woman takes a moment to grant the wish of a dying boy and gives him the perfect day. Meanwhile, the Sovereign constricts his grip on the government. Will Wonder Woman be able to hold out hope as the world around her grows darker? Plus, Trinity spends the night at the Fortress of Solitude with her babysitters, the Super Sons!

Another future Super Sons feature with Trinity, and going by the “babysitters” it sounds like from their earlier relationship lol

[youngster-monster]

getting closer (though not actually CLOSE) to the end of the revengeance edits and considering adding a whole other chapter to this already-overlong mess (i want vashj back and suramar seems as good a point as any to bring her into the story)

[kursedmayo]

I wish people sent me asks about Kael man I got literal Wikis worth of data on him 😔

[rebelscaped]

“I typically prefer the benches that aren't occupied, actually,” said Kael, withholding just enough of his frustration to crack what should have sounded more like a joke but came out as more of a sarcastic retort. He probably should have apologised for his tone, and he really would have been apologetic if he had done, but he was too focused on trying to rescue his stray sheets of rubbish and escape potential humiliation (or, at the very least, embarrassment, which was not a feeling around which he really knew his way, even if he was good at pretending not to give a shit) to really dwell on the details. He was initially confused, and maybe a little taken aback, by the way she snatched the dumplings to her chest. For a moment, he almost wondered if the comment about them being like gold was intended as a mockery – and he might have even been relieved if it were, it would have made him feel a little better about having spoken so brusquely himself – but it was with furrowed brows that he realised that this might well have been a sincere reaction. Although he was not one to pass judgement on anybody for the harmless act of caring about things, he had to blink his way through the thought process, finally settling on a sigh of laughter and a shake of the head. “You could get ink poisoning,” said Kael, with the lackadaisical shrug of a person who knew he was lying, knew anybody else listening knew he was lying because it was not a remotely convincing lie (nor was it meant to be), but was having fun with it anyway. “Or maybe all that writing's just curses and shit. Up to you if you feel like risking all that, ain't no skin off my nose.”

IT DIDN'T NEED EXPLAINING WHY EXACTLY Farah preferred to take her lunch breaks from work outside when the weather permitted. There was a break room at the Gothland Mausoleum, with a refrigerator that she found a bit disgusting, not due to its close to proximity to deceased bodies and displays of caskets but only because someone had previously spilled some kind of saucy food that now left all of the shelves sticky and wafting a strange scent. Clearly, the mortician assistant wasn't thrown off by what was showcased in horror movies, but eating food in an unsanitary environment did get to her. With two chopsticks poised in her fingers, as even though she had brought a sandwich to eat, The Yumpling was calling to her, her attention was mostly taken up by two crows that were picking over the remnants of a meal someone was too lazy to throw out. Mentally, she was making up a little storyline between the two of them, amusing herself effortlessly before she needed to return to the scent of embalming fluid. Because of this, the fact that the papers had flown right onto the picnic table she was sitting at went entirely unnoticed, happily chewing through a fresh dumplings with little concern for anything outside of the crow she had affectionately nicknamed Dwight was explaining why he rightfully deserved the last cold french fry. When someone approached her, a pierced eyebrow raised with suspicion. "Are you always trying to climb under benches being used?" Regardless of her less than friendly question, she stood, about to reach for the container of dumplings to hold to her chest as if they were a defenseless creature that needed protecting when the were instead covered in paper. "Oh, no, I hope they aren't ruined! These things are like gold!" Her hand only stopped inches from ripping the papers off of it after his given warning, and Farah turned her head with question. "Why not? Is it poisoned?"

[greencheekconure27]

Rambling again.Thinking about Sorsha and Jade.Idk if the show is going to stick with it, but in the movie novelization-and apparently some deleted scenes- part of Sorsha's backstory is that her mother took her away from Tir Asleen, lied to her about her father(the king,a.k.a the old man with the white beard in the final scenes) and manipulated her memory using magic.It all starts to fall apart once she arrives at Tir Asleen after all those years, resulting in her changing sides ( well, that and Madmartigan being hot 😂).

Which certainly makes for an interesting parallel with Jade's backstory, and might add an extra layer to their interactions. Now Sorsha may have kept the truth from Jade, and may have used her to keep Kit away from dangerous adventures ( like the ones that lost her Madmartigan) but she also a) seems to genuinely like her/ approve of her and b) is very much scared of becoming like Bavmorda and c) is shown very protective of her own to the point of lying to them for years if she deems it necessary to keep them safe.(not a good trait to have but can we really blame her?). So taking all of this into account I REALLY want to see Jade confront her about what she and Ballantine & co did & see them interact some more in the next season ( which is definitely coming I refuse to believe otherwise).

(Though Jade's situation might not have been necessarily intentional, at least not at first -the details are yet unclear,it could also be that they found her on the battlefield, brought her back to Tir Asleen amidst the chaos, realized they took a Bone Reaver kid (Kael's,at that) by accident and don't exactly have a way to return her, panicked and made up the whole "family killed by Bone Reavers " backstory.Still unfair and bad for Jade though.Also kind of unconvinced by the idea that Kael was a good guy actually but Scorpia might be a somewhat unreliable narrator in that aspect.)

[kaelsleftverdantsphere]

Love never dies, but lovers do

AN: This work can include sensitive topics so beware if you're triggered by any of the following:

Death of a loved one, self-harm, thoughts of suicide

If you haven't left by now then sit tight and enjoy this angsty rollercoaster

------------

He can remember as if it was yesterday. Looking over plans of Netherstorm, calculating and writing down numbers and short words on scraps of paper all around his working station in the Keep when lord Sanguinar approached him with intel on what's been happening around Outland in the past week.

"And apparently, the Betrayer has been slain by the Warden- if you haven't heard, my prince." He claimed, very nonchalant.

"What?" He snapped his head upwards to look at the taller elf. "What did you just say?"

"I said- that it's over, the Black Temple has fallen. That is good news, is it not?"

"It's-" his voice broke and he looked down at his papers, unable to comprehend a single word of what he's just been told.

"I'm sorry for interrupting your work, my liege." Sanguinar bowed lightly and walked out of the room as quickly as possible.

"He's dead," it took a few minutes for him to realize what has happened. "He's gone. He is not going to come running after me and he is certainly not going to put a stop to this madness he-" he punched the table. "What am I supposed to do now, you- you-! You half-night elf mongrel!" Tears started swelling up in his eyes, partially clouding his vision as well as his thoughts. He might've lit the whole map and all his notes on fire. It did not matter anymore. Nothing did.

~~~

A few weeks passed with the prince spending most his time working, not thinking of the loss and all the mistakes he made to come to this point. Trying very hard to pull himself together and not let his cracked shell fall apart. But just when he thought he could be getting better, there was a numerous group of intruders at the Keep. Seemingly coming just to end his misery, which didn't sound like the worst thing to happen.

The fight was long. Too long for his liking. Too long for him to effectively have the arrogant mask of eloquence and cunning on the entire time. The mask shattered in the middle of a spell. He was in the air, casting, using every drop of mana to make himself stronger and- it only made his mind weaker.

He gracefully landed onto the ground but almost immediatelly dropped to his knees, nearly collapsing. He cried and begged and shook and begged some more. For the pain to stop.

"Please-..." He let out a scream in agony, that was not even partially physical. "Please, just let me die. Let me leave this god forsaken place for good, let me-" he was just rambling nonsense by the point Lady Liadrin reached the Keep.

~~~

He doesn't remember much up to waking up in his chambers. His old chambers. In Silvermoon. He rubbed his eyes to clear his vision, looking around.

"You're such an unbelievable asshole, Kael'thas, I can't even begin to describe to you how terrified I was for your life, you selfish, dumb, dashing prick!"

It was Rommath, who immediatelly started talking to him as if he just made an "oopsie". It felt surreal. And Kael'thas couldn't bring himself to say a single word.

"Can you tell me what happened out there, Sun? Can you explain to me what went through your head when you did all that? You could've died! And all of your people would follow soon after without a strong leader! And Theron is getting on my nerves! I-... Kael?"

Rommath's eyes examined the prince's expression and he gently cupped his cheek.

"What happened to you? Normally you would fight me to the death if I called you an asshole- What did they do to you? Who did? Just tell me and I will-"

"Stop..." the prince whispered, tears once again starting streaming down his face.

"Do you... Do you want me to leave you alone for a moment?"

He slightly nodded, looking away, trying to clear his eyes once again. Rommath slowly getting up, looking over Kael and examining every part of the room to make sure there's nothing that could possibly hurt his prince, walking to the door, sighing, opening it and leaving. Kael heard a locking sound from the door, which did not make him feel any more secure.

He sat up in bed and looked over the room, then looking in the mirror at what he was wearing. A simple white sleeping gown and a choker. He knew immediately what it was and that there was no option for him to take it off. They had to silence him with a FUCKING dog collar.

A few weeks ago he would've felt humiliated, angry, ABSOLUTELY livid. But now, he barely felt anything. He felt blue, so incredibly sad the sadness was tangible. He didn't want to be here. He didn't want to be.

~~~

He walked to the spire alongside Rommath. They haven't really spoken since he came back and there was nothing to actually speak about. Kael didn't talk to anyone and Rommath didn't want to hurt him more by pressuring him to speak.

"KAEL'THAS!" The ever-so positive Halduron ran over to them, not caring about much else but hugging the elf. Kael just stood there, in his embrace for a short moment, Hal pulled back after a while. "We thought we'll never see you again! Lor said that-"

"Halduron, shut it..." Lor'themar chuckled and walked to them. "He's not in the best shape, can't you see that?"

"He looks as wonderful as ever!"

Rommath rose his eyebrows. "He looks like a corpse." Oh how Kael wished he was a corpse by now.

"Well, he obviously should eat something- and-" Halduron looked over at Lor'themar's expression. "And our people should probably see him when he recovers."

"I'm well, you three." Kael'thas spoke up, with the triumvirate turning their heads to him. "Well enough to get judged for what I did."

"What are you talking about?" Lor'themar said, quietly.

"About what I did?" He coughed for a bit, his voice getting used to being quiet. "I betrayed all of you and sided with the legion, did you all just forget that?"

"We know that. But you were -obviously- unwell. So it is understandable for you to-"

"Nothing I did is understandable, Theron! I betrayed all of our people and the Betrayer himself! I deserve little less than to rot in a cell somewhere or to get executed!"

"Kael'thas, are you telling me you would do that just because you wanted to?"

"Of course not! But I did it! All of it!"

"But you would've never done any of that if you were mentally well, Kael'thas. And you recognise the issue with your past behavior. There's no need for anyone to-"

"You act as if you know everything about everything! About me and about my motivations! But you know nothing! The only one in this room who knows is me and I am telling you that I deserve to die!"

"Yes and I am telling you, as lord regent you yourself chose, that you, Kael'thas Sunstrider, are not thinking straight."

"You're such a-"

"Kael-" Rommath placed a hand on his shoulder and gave it a light squeeze. "-stop, you're only hurting yourself."

"To hell with you, all of you!" He yelled and covered his face.

~~~

Couple weeks passed with Kael spending most of his time in his chambers. He didn't want to speak to anyone. Noone understood, or didn't want to understand, him. He didn't eat, barely slept and just spent his days looking up at a ceiling while laying there with his hands pressed tight against his chest.

He was so desperate to feel something other than anguish and grief. He tried scratching his arms to the point of them bleeding, resulting in Rommath keeping him in check every second of every day. Hell, he couldn't even punish himself for his misdeeds.

One day, he looked over at the door unlocking and saw a light-haired human walking in. He never wanted Jaina to see him like this. He looked horrible, sunken eyes with dark circles under them, the skinniest he's ever been, his usually sun-kissed skin just as dull and ashy as ever.

"I was looking forward to seeing you again, Kael'thas..." She looked sad, he wasn't sure if that was because of him, or another matter. "What happened to you, old friend?" She sat down on a chair next to his bed and reached her hand out to brush back his hair.

He was silent, completely, just looking at her, his expression blank.

"Kael'thas... are you here with me?" She gently touched one of his ears and it shook in response. "I am here for you if you ever... if you ever need me, dear, do you understand me?"

He nodded after a while. The truth being, he did not understand. He didn't understand why anyone would be there for him after all of that. He did not want anyone to be there for him after all of that. He did not deserve anyone to be there for him after all of that.

He wanted to scream, run and set everything on fire but he couldn't. He couldn't even speak.

~~~

Next person to visit him was Sylvanas. A friend of his from way back when. Although she was different. Very different from how he remembered her.

She looked very good compared to the other undead -no, forsaken- he's seen. But there was something wrong, still.

She sat down on the chair next to his bed just like Jaina did the week prior.

"Prince Kael'thas... I've heard of what happened in Outland and I was very relieved when I heard you were alright."

She obviously noticed the lack of energy in the prince's usually very vibrant face.

"I believe you can get better. I did and so will you, young prince." She smiled.

~~~

He felt better, if by better you understand "doing more than just laying in bed". Rommatg rid him of the collar and Kael could actually cast once more, and with every little spell he could feel his power come back. His will to live was still nowhere to be seen, but he was actually trying now.

He actually started acting as prince sometimes, although he couldn't help but notice people whispering underneath their breath about him. And he didn't blame them either. Not one bit.

The first thing he chose to do was travel to Teldrassil with Rommath and talk with Malfurion.

He always found the druid incredibly intimidating and he has seen his fair share of intimidating beings. But not today. Today he was ready to scream his lungs out and fight for what feels important.

The night elves weren't happy seeing blood elves coming to their home. Their distaste was apparent especially when he actually got to speak to the Betrayer's brother.

"Welcome, prince Sunstrider." Malfurion's voice was very warm, calm and overall welcoming. But Kael'thas was mad. "Your need for a meeting felt urgent. Is there anything we could help you with."

"Why didn't you make sure Illidan would have a proper funeral?" He started.

"Oh-... is that why you're here?"

"I asked you first. Why didn't your brother, your twin, have a funeral?"

"I believe that my answer would not be to your liking, young one. And we've heard word of how you get rid of things that are... not to your liking."

"Bullshit."

"Kael'thas-" Rommath looked over at his friend.

"Wasn't my brother the one who used you and your people for his cause, young Sunstrider?"

"Your brother was always trying to help... He just made mistakes! Who doesn't make mistakes?"

"He has clouded your judgement, hasn't he?" Malfurion looked as if he genuinely cared. "You have to understand-"

"I don't have to understand anything. You have to give your brother a funeral. For yourself and for him."

The room fell silent until Malfurion answered. "I will see what I can do."

"And I will see you to it."

~~~

It took years for Kael to seem alright. But not a day did he feel alright. Not even the closest ones to him knew how close he felt to incinerating himself. How close he felt to run away and never let anyone see him again.

But for all around him, he looked well. With his usual rosy color returning to his cheeks, dark circles beneath his eyes disappearing and healthy weight making his body not show every single bone within it.

He was wearing a beautiful regal robe, his hair was neatly styled, framing his face like always.

He felt like himself, even if only on the outside. Even if only for his own coronation. Feeling atleast a hint of happiness even though he views the entire thing as foolish.

The entire day was horribly exhausting for him. He was looking forward to being in his room again. Having already spoken to Lor'themar about not being fit enough to rule and he reassured him he'll do whatever he can to lift some weight off his shoulders.

But the crown felt so heavy.

~~~

"I cannot keep living like this, Rommath. I cannot and I will not. I am not as strong as my father and I am not as determined as my mother." He was holding his head, sitting on his bed, being hugged from the side by the other. "I don't want to live anymore, Rom. I can't."

"Kael, look at me-" He said, almost whispering. "Look at me, I won't let you go. Not again."

Both of them were shaking, whimpering. Both of them knew that Kael is not doing well again.

~~~

It came back. Kael stopped eating, talking to people and slept sporadically. Rommath kept an eye on him to keep him safe.

However, nothing worked to keep the king of the sin'dorei out of his own head.

Suddenly, he spoke.

"I'm the reason he died, Rom."

"What?"

"He wouldn't have died if I was there to protect him from himself."

"What are you saying?"

"He could've been here if I weren't a fucking failure of an elf."

"Are you talking about-"

"About Illidan! Of course I'm talking about Illidan, you moron!"

"You're acting out again..." Rommath shook his head. "You're not the reason he died, he had it coming."

"You understand nothing..."

~~~

Khadgar walked into his room, unannounced. Sat down on the chair ever-so-present that Rommath spent so many nights falling asleep on just to keep his king safe.

"What happened to you, Kael'thas?"

The elf laughed, barked out chuckles that he held in for a moment. "I died, Khadgar. I died back in Outland."

"You're here, Kael'thas, you didn't die."

"I did. Alongside the Black Temple, old friend."

~~~

He was needed at Nighthold. And to be needed? That was something he hasn't felt in a while. He fought alongside adventurers and well-known heroes, face obscured by a cloak as to not bring much attention to his unhealthy visage. He felt awesome, finally in action, up until-

He was not expecting to ever see him again. The love of his life, the one who hurt him so much, the one whom he loved every moment and every second of every day... was standing right infront of him.

He ran to him, his cloak falling from his hair, his cheeks already wet from the tears.

And hugged him. Squeezed the tall kal'dorei with all his might as if he could run from him.

"Kael-..." Illidan sounded as if he choked on his name, but he returned the hug, clawed hands brushing back the royal's hair.

"I'm so tired, Illidan..."

~~~

They were in Kael's chambers, in bed, embracing one another while sleeping, when Illidan slowly got up.

Kael's hand immediately caught his wrist and the half-awake king looked at his lover.

"I- don't leave me..." He cried.

"Then come with me..."

[emperorteddybear]

so ive been thinking about willow again as always, and i want to talk for a moment about how boorman isn't an idiot and i think he genuinely might have had more of a plan for the bone reavers than we saw.

boorman knows things, he reads people and he has travelled around, but he's also dramatic af and wants his moment.

he knew his reappearance would be met with mixed opinions, and that he'd have to try to win scorpia over again if he wanted things to get back to whatever they'd been between them before. but i think that his full plan was interrupted by kit and elora breaking free.

i think he was just waiting for the right time to tell scorpia about jade, because he had probably worked it out. the right time didn't come, because he was busy dealing with his own stuff first and trying to get back into scorpias good books again himself, before trying to save the group; and kit and elora interrupted him.

boorman knows the bone reavers, and its implied he knows scorpia intimately, so he will know what the mark of kael looks like. even if he doesn't remember it exactly he knows enough about the bone reavers to know of their traditions and what a mark like that means.

jade, has been on this quest with him for a long time at this point. her hair is tied up when he first meets her, they spend weeks in close proximity and we can't forget that hug at nockmaar. chances are high that he would have seen the back of her neck, and he's the only member of the group to really truly understand what the symbol means. but he's also not an idiot, and knows that jade probably wouldn't trust him if he suddenly sprung that information on her on a normal day of their adventure, so it makes sense that he wouldn't have brought it up.

idk maybe this is all a ramble and im putting too much faith in him. maybe it wasn't part of his plan.

but even if he never planned to do anything with the info, he definitely had already connected the dots, bc there's no way he wouldn't have seen and worked it out.

[thequeenoffishburrito]

This kinda sounds like something diluc would make after their fight while trying to get kaeya to change his last name cuz "fuck you"

And idk maybe just cuz ragbros sounds more fun/playful and it hits the ear better? Or maybe it makes more sense cuz they "rag on" each other a lot?

Ha ha

Ha ha

Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahaaaaaaaa.....

Kill me now

Ok I know that ragbros and ragvindr bro/brothers are the same thing, like technically, but why does the second feel so much more wrong than the first?

Like... Idk... It feels wrong to call Kaeya ALBERICH a ragvindr... It just gives me the heeeby jeeebies.

[notthatdeafbard]

Just a quick About to Pin

Name: Kael Age: 33 Pronouns: They/Them preferred, He/Him accepted Sexuality: Who the fuck knows at this point

Notes: I post whatever I want, sometimes it’s fandom related, sometimes it’s not, sometimes it’s just ramblings of a mad lad. I will tag things sometimes, but not always, unless it’s triggers. I am an ADHD and potentially autistic mess, be patient with me

Other Places to find me:

Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Star_stream/works

Twitch: https://www.twitch.tv/kittencainevt

Twitter: https://twitter.com/kaelruu

Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCfufVR7w8p8IFoMDKhIq6dw

Discord: Only given when asked

Hit me up any time, I’m always down for talking.

[montcumbry-gaytor]

Nepenthe. chap 10

act two : razbliuto

THIS IS A OC INTEGRATION FOR THE WITCHER, IT IS NOT A X READER FIC.

— mrr... how many chapters have I wrote this week? idk, anyways! enjoy lawl :3

tw for : Canon Typical Violence, Nudity, Canon Typical Language, Burn Scar Mentioning.

(n.) the sentimental feeling about someone you once loved but no longer do.

It's early day, and I find myself relaxing in the nook of a tree as Geralt restlessly tosses a net into murky waters, it's the snap of a branch and a drunken singing that startles me out of my thoughts.

"Geralt! Hello." Says Jaskier, holding a flask of what seems to be ale, and his eyes then flit to me. "And Kael, You're here too, Great." He hums, before exaggerating how long it's been, though it's just been a few weeks.. or months.

"— "How are you doing?" i hear you ask." Jaskier says, making the silence obvious, and Geralt quickly answers. "I didn't." He growls as he gathers the net before moving to toss it out again.

He hadn't slept since the night prior, I understand why, while Geralt was never one for destiny, he was now strung by it with a child. "Well, The countess de Stael, My Muse and beauty of this world.. has.. left me.." Ah, so that's why he's drowning his sorrows.

"Again. Rather coldly and unexpectedly I might add." He adds, and as he rambles on I slip from the divot of the tree, Geralt moving like a silent plea to get away from the noise.

"What are you fishing for exactly?" Jaskier asks, tailing us, in all this time he still hasn't learned how to take a hint.

Jaskier trails on, begging Geralt to answer as he lists off names of fish, and finally Geralt speaks up. "I'm not fishing." He says, reeling the net back in. "I can't sleep."

There's almost a worried tone underneath the slurred words, and Jaskier is quick to speak up. "What's going on, Geralt? Talk to me." Geralt sighs for a moment, his eyebrows knitted with frustration. "A djinn." He states, and Jaskier asks the question that pops into my head.

"A what?" It's not that I don't know, it's that I know full well, but does Geralt really think a djinn will break Destiny? "I'm looking for a djinn." Geralt repeats.

Jaskier laughs softly, pressing more about the Djinn until Geralt finally snaps. "Yes. It'll grant me wishes." Geralt says, rising up again, the tension rising in his voice. "It's in this lake somewhere, and I can't fucking sleep!"

Geralt snarls, and I move to follow him, my hand brushing against his slightly and our gazes meet, it's a silent look between us that speaks a whole sentence.

And yet, Jaskier follows again, and this time he strikes the broken chord, bringing up the night in Cintra, and I step back a moment to bat Jaskier on the shoulder.

"No! it's not that." Geralt barks, and I move entirely away from the two, if Jaskier truly needs an answer he's going to carve away at Geralt, and I personally do not want to face the reprocussions.

"Did you sing to her before she left?" Geralt asks, kneeled at the shore as he bundles up the net. "I did actually, and she.. why? what are you implying?" Jaskier asks, before his jaw drops and he bellows at Geralt's underlying insult.

"Tell me Geralt, Be honest, Hows.. My.. Singing?" Jaskier asks, hands on his hips as if he could make Geralt regret any words that left his mouth.

"It's like ordering a pie and finding it has no filling."

Geralt answers, and I let out a soft chortle, and I cough with my fist over my mouth as I catch myself, watching as Jaskier stammers in shock.

"You need a nap!" Jaskier proclaims, and rambles on and on as per usual, and as Geralt gathers the net, a clay bottle sealed with a magical stamp rests inside.

"-Wow. Wow. What is- What is that?" Jaskier asks, and Geralt goes to explain before Jaskier tries to jerk it from his hands. "Take it back about my fillingless pie."

They bicker back and forth like children, and with a swift tug from Jaskier, the seal and the pot separate. "Oh.. Shit." I hiss, and push myself up as the wind picks up.

Jaskier goes on in theatrics about he's freed the Djinn, before Geralt tugs him back before he can use the last wish, and the two once again bicker and yell.

"Knock it the fuck off!" I hiss, and Geralt growls as he kneels, grasping the broken pieces of the pot, and as Jaskier goes to retort, he begins to choke, and wheezes out breaths as Geralt sends a pulse of energy through his fingers and the Djinn flees.

"Geralt—" He wheezes, and I watch as he coughs blood, and his eyes are filled with terror.

There's little time, Geralt and I lift Jaskier onto Roach and I mount Emir as we set off near the closest camp, Jaskier limply resting against Roach's back.

It all happens quickly, The next thing we know we're carrying Jaskier into a white canvas tent, an elvish man inside surrounded by bottles and smells strongly of herbs.

"A Djinn in a bottle? It's like a fairy tale." the man says, trying to observe the persistent swelling in Jaskier's throat. "Without the happy ending. Can you help him?" Geralt asks, his hand on Jaskier's shoulder.

"Oh Dear.." The medic murmurs "—What?" Geralt asks. "I assure you I have received the best medical education right here in Rinde, but.." The man begins to speak, and he sits back as he sighs.

"These injuries are of magical nature. I can help with the pain, but it's a bit like.." He trails off, and Geralt finishes the sentence for him. "Putting salve on a tumor?"

Jaskier let's out a weak "No!" And I'm quick to hush him, holding him upright as he sways limply, if it was bad enough, he had no reason to be speaking lest it destroy his throat more.

"His throat was attacked. If the spell's action isn't halted as soon as possible, that damage might be irreversible."

Jaskier's lips spewed blood into the grassy floor, I can't help but feel an inkling of pity, but as the elf speaks again, I can hear the fear in his voice.

"And the longer he goes untreated, the more likely it is to spread.. He could die."

Chireadan added, and Jaskier gasps a weak breath. "Oh, Fuck-" Jaskier fumbles for a bit, one of his hands landing into mine and squeezing, his knuckles are white but it's a weak grip at best.

"Yeah, We.. won't let that happen." Geralt states, patting Jaskier's back as Chireadan guides a small bowl of a opaque purple-ish liquid to Jaskier's lips, and he drinks almost like a child would.

"The medicine should buy him a few hours but he needs a magical remedy." The elf says, taking the bowl away from Jaskier as it's now empty. "You'll have to take him to another town."

"There isn't a mage here?"

Geralt asks, and the medic looks up at him for a moment. "The mayor says they are dangerous." There's obviously more to it, and Jaskier clings weakly to me to keep upright as they speak.

"What aren't you saying?" Geralt asks, and Chireadan's lips hang open for a moment as if having no words. "Tell me."

"Well.." He begins to speak, but he's wasting time. "There.. There is one mage.. I was tasked with bringing this mage to justice." The elf says, and his lips curl up into a smile as he speaks.

"But I was unable to penetrate certain defenses.. The mayor himself has made the catch and has imprisoned the mage in his house." Chireadan states.

But what sane man who deems a mage unsafe keeps them in the same structure he sleeps in?

"That wasn't so fucking hard was it?" Geralt retorts, and stands and basically drags Jaskier upright, and the elf warns him in a tone that almost sounds like he's fond of the mage.

We quickly set off in the direction of the mayor's residence, our horses hooves beat against dirt and mud, the thudding sound and it's dark when we approach, almost like a horror story.

"Woah! A fee for entrance." Says a man, waiting outside of the residence's doors. "A fee to see the mayor? this is urgent." Geralt huffs, but as the man persists, he huffs and goes to reach into a saddle pouch.

He's quick, but he uses the sack he pulls out to strike the man in the head, knocking him out cold, and we ride to the gates and leave our horses just barely outside of them.

Geralt carries Jaskier over his shoulder, which is a little absurd given his condition. "Do you really have to carry him like that?" I ask, and Geralt lets out a low grunt and carries on, ignoring the comment.

We walk through cobblestone halls, and we enter a kitchen of sorts, where Geralt eases Jaskier onto a table, and as I scan the room i regret having my other eye.

"Holy Shit." Geralt turns to look, and when his eyes meet the same sight he speaks up. "Woah-"

A nude and blubbery man stands in front of a fireplace holding a clay pitcher, but he drops it in shock as his eyes land on us.

"Welcome.. to my home." Usually the habit of not letting your eyes off of a stranger would be a good thing, but not in this case. "You're the Mayor of Rinde?.. not exactly what I was expecting."

Jaskier stammers as he tries to get Geralt's attention, but it's for not, his voice fails him in cause of his ailment, and Geralt excuses him before inquiring on the mage, to which the Mayor says nothing and speaks as if the question was never spoken.

"Ah.. the apple juice, she wants some.." He speaks, looking like he'll collapse at any minute as he does. "And she always gets.. what she wants." The mayor states, and Geralt and I look at each other in confusion, and I can't exactly rid the expression of distaste from my face.

"I don't understand, Does he want me to get him the apple juice?" Geralt asked, and I stare at the pitcher for a moment before shrugging in turn. "Fuck if I know."

Geralt reaches for the pitcher for a moment, and I grasp it and pass it to him, but by the time he turns to hand it to the mayor, he's sound asleep on a chair.

"If only sleep naturally came that easy." I remark, and Geralt raises Jaskier by his collar and guides him out, and I'm quick to follow, and as we push through the doors smoke fogs at our feet.

"The fuck?" Geralt retorts, looking around but finds nothing that could be producing it. "Ah.. shit, rich people and their fucking ambience." I murmur, waving away a puff of smoke that clouds my vision.

We push forth, and as we round a corner it's like an amalgamation of flesh and.. other bodily fluids, shared in every way possible, and while typically this would be a fantasy, I think the mayor left a sour opinion on such brash nudity.

"Geralt, is it too soon to get my other eye clawed out?" I ask, and Geralt lets out a hum as we push through the nude peoples, I feel uncomfortable even being close to touching them, while I never thought about it before, I want anything but to think of it now.

The smoke clears, and a noirette woman sitting alone, a masquerade mask does little to hide her purple eyes, and something makes my stomach churn in distrust as she looks at us.

"Stay." Geralt commands as he sits Jaskier aside, and as he walks forward I go to follow, but he halts again. "Both of you." He says strictly.

"Geralt, You already left me behind for a witch before, need I say anything else?" I retort, my brows furrowed as he looks back at me with the signature Stare, his lips pursed in a straight line.

"Fine."

I huff, and turn on my heels, skirting around hands that reach out, the slick sounds are akin to the noise of chewing with your mouth open, and in such an open space it forces a frown upon my lips.

I press my back to the hallway wall, parallel to the witch across the room, and while she gazes at Geralt with a hungry gaze, when she looks upon me it's.. curious, like she'd rather play with my corpse than eat me.

But, as she and Geralt converse, she stands and circles around him, her fingers grazing over Geralt's shoulders and back, he isn't mine in the way he was, but there's that lingering irk of jealousy or.. envy.

Her eyes flit to mine as that thought reaches my mind, and I let out a small scoff and avert my gaze, envy is for those that think they need more than what they are.

Still, She makes me uneasy, or perhaps it's this building as a whole, I'd prefer it'd collapse on my head than stay here for much longer.

Every time I switch my gaze to the foggy room, it makes me more uncomfortable than the last, they're too close for my comfort even though I'm far from her.

"Ragamuffin."

Her voice booms, and the alluring music halts with the people inside the room, and they all quickly jolt and flush out of the room, pulling clothes over their head and fleeing.

I'm wary of her more and more as time passes, and I stay by Jaskier's side as she heals him, and puts him to rest, even if she's away from Geralt my skin crawls being in the same room as her.

"You don't have to be that wary of me, you know." She remarks, and I turn my gaze out the window, my arms crossed over my chest. "There's always a concern for safety, no matter where I am." I retort, and she hums as if the idea fascinates her.

"It's safe to assume you're a Witcher as well? That scarring gives it away." She hums, her focus on Jaskier and yet she still can speak so leisurely.

My eye is like a dagger as it peers at her, I can't tell if she's playing games or otherwise, and she lets out an amused chuckle. "You're more aggressive than your.." She trails off, and waits for me to finish off the sentence, teasing the idea.

"It's none of your concern what he is to me."

I retort, and she hums once more, the magical glow of her hands fading away as she raises up, standing to her full height. "Well, That's all I can do for now." She states, and approaches the door.

"Care for a bath?" She asks in a sickly sweet tone, and I huff out a response. "If I trusted you not to drown me." I hiss, and she takes that as her answer and leaves.

It's quiet when her footsteps recede, and I move a chair from the corner of the room next to the bed and sit down, peering over Jaskier with concern, the lump on his neck is grotesque, as of growing a second person from your own self.

The night grows late and I can't find it in myself to rest in any other way than staying still, hardly even blinking in concern I might miss something that could end the bards life.

I haven't felt this worrisome since the accident of Gorthur Gvaed, it's exhausting.

It feels like hours before the door to the room cracks open and Geralt steps inside, the mage in tow, and I push myself to my feet as they walk inside. "This is a little tight." Geralt seethes, and as I get a good look at them they've changed clothes, it makes my skin crawl.

"I believe I sized you up quite right." She hums, peeking around the door, her eyes lay on me for a moment before going back to Geralt, and I skirt away from my fellow Witcher, as if he were one of the nude people in the room from before as he approaches the bed.

"Do you doubt my capabilities?" The witch asks, and Geralt pauses for a moment as he looks over Jaskier. "No, Just your intentions." He replies, and she looks almost.. sad by that remark.

"I said some things to him.. he's a.." Geralt trails off, he's never been amazing with words, not even when he confessed his love for me all those years ago did he do it verbally.

I should really keep my mind off that.

"A friend?" the witch speaks up, and Geralt turns to her. "I'd like it to not be the last thing he remembers." If it weren't for the circumstances, I'd smile.

"He won't remember much if he's dead." She remarks, hanging on the lip of the door, watching Geralt attentively, and she lets out a chuckle as if it's a funny idea that some aren't as corrupted to know care for another.

"It's a joke." She says, and I cock my head to her. "A shitty one." I hiss, glaring at her as she moves into the room.

"He will recover, and regain his vocal talents." She states, moving across the room with an uneasy glide. "Does that satisfy you?" She asks, her eyes flickering between Geralt and I.

"Not in the slightest, But don't reproach yourself for it, Yennefer." He says the name with a vile tone, and approaches her with a heavy gaze to return her own. "I'm not easily satisfied." Geralt says, and I watch warily as Yennefer gets uncomfortably close to him.

But, Geralt's gaze slips by, and then to the candles by the edge of the bed, and he makes the conclusion I was too caught up to make. "It's the sign from the seal.."

He hums, and Yennefer's face drops as she realizes she's been had. "I'll be taking Jaskier now." Geralt says, and moves towards Jaskier, ready to scoop him up and get the hell out.

"If you wake him before he is healed, the spell won't take." She states, a sinister expression taking over her face. "That's no way to treat a friend, Geralt." She purrs, and moves over to the Djinns seal, which was placed upon a nightstand.

"You want the djinn, but the amphora's broken." Geralt says. "The Djinn's already long gone." Geralt states, and a gust of wind surges through the room, and the candles by the edge of the bed light on their own.

"Do go on, Tell me how stuff works, The djinn is tied to this plane and it's master." Yennefer retorts, and I stay close to Jaskier, but my eyes never leave her, not even as they feel dry and desperate for me to blink.

"How many wishes did the bard express before he lost his voice?" She asks, and Geralt's head lifts as he realizes just what is going on. "You need Jaskier to make his last wish so you can capture it." And Yennefer rolls her eyes as he speaks.

"So that's.. two.. then." She hums, and steps forward slowly. "The djinn will fight you, if you try and bend it-" Geralt's head twitches, and he clears his throat. "That scent.. Lilac and-" "Gooseberries."

Yennefer hums, and as I move with my hand wrapped around the hilt of my sword she holds a hand out, like a threat now that she's in Geralt's head.

"He has a strong will.. but he can't contend with me." She hums, a smirk on her lips and as her eyes flit to mine it's like a head splitting ache, sickening like the churn of your stomach after smelling a rotting corpse.

"Sorry I couldn't be direct, I knew you and your.. friend here would fight it." Yennefer says, and leans up and presses her lips to Geralt's, it makes me sick, because in the end I'm still not over him yet.

"I do love a good old fashioned trap." She hums as she pulls away, and Geralt sways as his eyes open again. "Good old fashioned.. Nap." and his eyes flutter closed again, as if sleeping standing up.

"Now.. for you." Yennefer hums as she turns to me, leaving Geralt standing as she approaches, and as I go to move it's like I'm stuck. "Just when I thought Witch's could be okay I find that's just a one time thing." I hiss, and she lets out a low chuckle.

"How cute." She coos, trailing around me before grasping my shoulders. "It was hard getting into you, but the way you reacted to the candles told me all I needed to know."

Her fingers slide up, and peel at the collar of my shirt, and I feel where her fingers glide across my skin until I don't, the nerves scalded off all those years ago. "You know.. you're a real firestarter yourself."

She hums, and my head feels heavy, my ears filled with the crackling of fire and as much as I was trying to fight it, it's like standing in shallow water and somehow being dragged beneath it.

— AHHHH I FINALLY GOT TO FINISH THIS CHAPTER OH MY GOD.

[nikkywrites]

Plum Wine Reunion

Prompt: "You have no proof" || Fictober Day 2

Warnings for (pretty vague) mentions of murder and death.

This prompt was a pain. Can you tell I stared blankly at my laptop screen before going "heck with it, here's this" with the title? Hope you all like it!

*****

The worst place for a sorceress to be is in nobility's presence.

Kael's dress feels like a beacon, a red rich like fire. Bidding all to look beneath the tight-bodiced silk to recognize the spark in her heart. To recognize the sanctity of her blood and capture her so they may take it for themselves. She feels eyes settle on her, the bold color, the way her skirt floats out on the soft evening breeze, as if waving them all closer.

She's looking to be found, though. It's the reason she's come.

The mourning period of her father's untimely death is over, an accident too coincidental to be so, for his body had been leached of blood. An odd thing, if he was human, but a blaring signal of danger for a sorcerer. Their blood was like light and was worth more than silk or salt or gold. Drops gifted those ungifted with sacred blood all the power it had to offer. All the power a sorcerer could use it for.

The talent, after all, lied in the blood and not the person. Having it in a stranger's hands was dangerous. Terrifying.

She grips the delicate glass of dark plum wine in her hand lightly, smiling reassurance at the Duchess smitten with her father who had gotten her in the gates and who believed in the public truth of her father's death. She does not know that he was killed, does not know that he was a sorcerer, does not know that Kael possesses his same gifted blood. Does not know that she is here, hoping to be cornered by a killer.

She'd hardly pieced the truth together herself.

If she had not gotten the few moments with her father's corpse as she did, she would be unaware of the full truth. She would have believed him killed, but she would not have believed it done by an enchanter. They are so rare these days and they tend to keep to themselves.

She is lucky she had had those moments, had seen the rune burned like a brand, ash black and smooth, on his skin.

A sorcerer's blood in an enchanter's possession was a thing of great terror. The clash of their differences too often led to corrupt cursed objects. Enchanter's magic on it's own was humble work, hardly useful to anyone but themselves with the way they were bound to nature and the mere shimmers of power it offered. They could not hold enough to do anything large, on their own. But if they obtained a sorcerer's blood?

Well. Then they possessed a means to store power and a way to slowly obtain endless amounts.

In time, it was devastating.

Her only clue to the killer's identity was the rune, a mark left like a signature when an enchanter does their work.

It's burned into her mind. She'd made sure, once she spotted it and it took the breath from her lungs and left her cold, to memorize it.

To recognize it.

Of all the ways Kael thought her past might catch up to her, this had not been one.

She thought she might one day see Gen again, the little girl from the forest who adored her family and her magic, but she never thought it would be like this. She never thought Gen would turn her back on her people's beliefs.

"Oh, your dress it stunning," she compliments a Baron's daughter who sports a sleek, thin-strapped lavender piece. "It compliments your waist." She sips her wine. Her eyes roam the courtyard idly. No one has caught her attention, though she knows she's being watched.

She knows she's right.

"Thank you." Reflexively, her hand smooths over the waist, face lit by the compliment mindlessly given.

Kael smiles as her father taught her, straight and with no teeth. "Now if you'll excuse me, I should keep mingling."

"Of course!"

They tie off their pleasantries and part. Kael deposits her empty glass on a passing server's tray. She smooths her skirt. The magic in her blood hums. She chats briefly with a few more people, all of them as charmed as they were by her father when he frequented such events.

"Pardon me?" a girl demures softly, some time later, fingers ghosting at her elbow. The touch is cold in a way that betrays the owner's nature. It is a blessing that she was able to haggle those moments with her father's body. If she hadn't, she'd currently be clueless. She'd be in danger unprepared.

She quickly finishes her empty conversation with Viscountess Blune's niece, turning to Gen. "Yes?"

"May we speak?"

Her smile brightens as her blood warms uncomfortably. "Of course. Your dress is lovely," she compliments, though the article of clothing is out of season. It's a sleeveless knee-length teal that is better suited for summer's peak than it is for the ending hump of spring.

Gen tilts her chin up, face smooth and mildly pleased, though her hard eyes suggest that she caught the lack of genuineness in the compliment. She's unable to call it out, though. Polite society had rules. "Thank you." It could be rather stifling, filtering everything to be at-a-glance polite.

"It's wonderful to see you again," Kael says, "though I must admit I'm surprised to see you here." An enchantress this far from nature was all but powerless. It was all but a declaration that Kael's memory was correct. That she was right. The realization sinks something hot in her gut. "I thought you might be with your sister by this time of year."

Gen's face twists. She has been an only daughter for nearly a decade, her sister's funeral long come and gone. "Well, you know. She took a last minute trip to Kamri."

"Oh?" Kael grabs a new glass from a passing server that offers, tilting her brows up in curiosity as if she had not been among the small group that discovered Gina's corpse. It was tragic, truly, how she perished. Attempting the impossible. "That's a nice place, this time of year." It was near where her father was headed.

"It is. Simply gorgeous."

They hold eye contact. Kael sizes her up, believes Gen is doing the same. The years have not been as cruel as she thought they might be, with Gen being made an orphan with no family left to take her in the last time they saw one another. There's roundness to her cheeks and her eyes are not shadowed in a lack of sleep. It's impressive and insulting in the same stroke. "How have the years been?"

"Kind." A lift to her smile that seems bitter.

She returns it. "I can see." She takes a sip, leaving a perfect imprint of her red painted lips wrapped over the rim.

"Thank you. It's been kind for you, as well, I trust?" Sharp eyes. Oh, if only they'd been able to find one another in a place less crowded.

"Kind enough." She lifts a shoulder. "You've kept busy, it seems." Not a question.

"I have."

Kael switches her glass to her right hand to grab Gen's elbow, stepping closer to give the illusion that she's about to whisper something juicy and not quite polite. And she is. "I know. Murder is such hard work, isn't it?"

Gen lifts her chin, shaking off Kael's grasp. "You have no proof."

"I don't," she agrees. "But that doesn't always matter, does it? I'm not taking you before justice." There's other ways to deal with things. Ways more common among those who cannot stand completely honest before the world.

Fear cracks through her expression. Something else, steady and dark, is quick to mask over it. Grief, she wants to say. "You wouldn't."

"Wouldn't I? I would have said something similar about you, recently." She takes another sip, sour-sweet rushing over her tongue. "Yet here we are. What are you hoping to do, anyway?"

It can't be the obvious answer of bringing her family back. They were dead (in an enchanter's way, which wasn't quite as permanent as any other but was nearly so, for all that's needed to bring them back). It would take more time than Gen had, to gather enough power for one person, let alone more.

"Is it not obvious?" A glint in her eyes. Knowledge. Triumph. Some missing piece. What is Kael missing?

"Apparently not. Be a dear and enlighten me?"

Gen folds her arms over her stomach, stares pointedly at far side of the crowd. "You should know."

Kael observes the other's face. When Gina was newly dead, Gen used to hide her grief behind irritation. But surely not. "Gina?" she asks. "That was no one's fault."

None but her own, though she won't say that part. It was a pitfall of being an enchanter. She'd tried to use magic she didn't have, driving herself to ruin, trying to perform something that required more than she could ever hold, to wrangle together a cure for her uncle. A man who had raised them both for most of their lives.

"Don't say her name. And it was."

Kael's chest swishes. Her magic settles, quiets. She forgets all of the people around them, possible ears listening. "Sorcerer magic is poison for enchanters," she reminds her, voice low. "My father would have helped but it would have killed him faster."

A pointed look. Carefully raised brows and pursed lips. A struggle to look like they're not fighting. "He could have helped. You could have."

"You know what would have happened if we did."

But did she? She'd been young, when her uncle and sister passed. They'd been all she had. Who would have taught her more, after, if she was alone?

Sorcerer magic in enchanter's grasp was incapable of healing, not in a way that is true to the name, that is favorable. Their kinds of magic never mix to cast anything good. It would have hollowed Gina of her ability to cast, would have trapped her with magic that steadily, slowly grew, lazily turning her everything into agony. It would have taken her uncle's ill only to replace it with something far worse, the beginning of a curse planted steady in his chest, siphoning off every scrap of his own magic until he was hollow, until it took his life, leaving behind an object acting as vessel for all that darkness.

There was nothing good to come, mixing their magics together.

And to use sorcerer amplification to bring an enchanter back? She's never heard it done. She imagines the consequences of that would create something that might be capable of rending the world in half.

"And it would have differed from current circumstance how exactly?

A sigh. She really did not know? "Do you not remember your laws? We do not mesh our magics together for a reason. It ends in corrupt enchantments. Curses. Saving your uncle would have unleashed a horror upon a dozen innocents that are not suffering from it now."

"Curses are myths."

A righteous sort of anger lights within her.

"Don't tell that to me." Her eyes scan the crowd for a sun-yellow pleated dress. She points it out, forces a smile on her face as she remembers that they are not alone. "Tell that to Lady Ontil. Her grandfather had possession of such an object. Ask her about it. She's left living with the consequences."

Defiance. "She looks fine."

"And looks can be deceiving, no?" She holds Gen's eyes. "I suggest, for the fate of some little girl that will one day be forced to take the brunt of your mistakes, that you lose what you stole."

"I took nothing."

"Talk to Lady Ontil. Please. For Gina's memory, if nothing else." She steps back. "And for the future's sake, I hope you're right." She downs the rest of her wine. It tastes more sour than it did before. "Just remember that you won't be the one paying the price. Think of that, before you decide if you want to gamble."

Gina does not answer. Her face is mask of stern nothingness that Kael can't read. She turns, wordless, and walks away.

"You won't be paying," she emphasizes, one last time, hoping it sticks as she watches her go.

Kael hopes it was enough. She doesn't her father's memory tainted with what Gen might force it to become. She doesn't want to think of his kindness and remember that somewhere, there is a family suffering because of his blood taken and used and fouled into something punishing.

*****

Sorcerer doesn't look like a word. Neither does enchanter, really. Someone please tell me to stop making intricate worlds for things. This did not need to have as much worldbuilding as it does and I wanted to strangle it at least half a dozen times because of it.

[filmactor]

i really resent the tumblr update that shows the op your tags in their activity when you reblog a post. i know some ppl like it bc they wanna see what ppl say about their stuff (it hasn’t served me on my barely-used personal bc ppl usually just tag my gifsets with the name of whoever i giffed) but i would like to talk at length about my ocs in the tags of a visually relevant gifset without being hyperaware of the op seeing all my dumb rp nonsense. i just feel like the op should spared of that. nobody asked for that.

[youngster-monster]

everytime i look back at my own anon asks they get longer and i feel like im writing an essay except the essay is hyperfixation fueled rambling . does that mean anything i WILL get my wow lore from you i HAVE been getting my wow lore from you and there is nothing that any gamer alive can do to stop me because i have more free time than i should be allowed to have and an obsession for two dead gay elves. i think about them every single day and i think that this can be accredited to you, ELVES???? IN MY MULTI-MASSIVELY ONLINE ROLEPLAYING GAME???????? MANY OF THEM??? AND THEYRE COMPETENT TOO?????? oh man oh god i (i am shoveling everything on my desk into a suitcase) i dunno if i (i am hauling my computer and monitors into a comically enormous suitcase that is far larger than the contents would require) dunno if i can (searching "FINAL FANTASY XIV DOWNLOAD") i dont know if i can play that g- okay for real though i May In Fact Download FFXIV . i am scared of games i know nothing about because Uh brain sucks but youve convinced me by setting up one of those stick and box animal traps with promise of elves as the bait. i now get to message my sister who has also been hitting me with ffxiv copypasta and tell her i am interested PLEASE please please i would literally do anything to see subs tank so that they have no choice but to kick illidan out of space hell and by extension kael and vashj too so they can be mean to eachother and have the banter i so crave. to me their banter is what mana addiction is to the high elves. i miss them every single day my brother actually found out about the gay elves when i left wow open on my computer ("what relevance does that have?" you know how you can name your wow character almost anything? yeah so i have this thing where i physically cannot stop myself from testing if ship names are available for use on any game i play and uhm. youll never guess what i was testing on wow right then and there) which is tragically positioned in such a way that it is visible to the entire room and when he saw it he looked so disappointed but in no way surprised whatsoever

the time that i have to message you approaches very quickly because the ask length is getting Worse. it is getting So Bad. my deepest condolences that you have to sift through this whole thing i just have so many things to say at any given time

frankly this reminds me of my old forums days. did y'all ever do that thing where you made a friend on a forum and instead of exchanging numbers (no mobile phone) or skype contacts you'd just exchange novel-length private messages? emails with extra steps.

i am so sorry for the dead elves brainrot. it will get worse.

me 🤝 your sister Come Play FFXIV. They Are Extending The Free Trial In October. You Cannot Escape The Elves

it's actually a good game too especially once you make it past base game! as a wow player i found it pretty easy to get into after a quick period of adaptation ( < forged in the crucible of wotlk-era wow)

i just KNOW the outland trio has some incredibly comedic AND tragic potential with their banter and blizzard is KEEPING IT FROM US.

everyday hapless brothers are subjected to their sibling's dead gay elves obsession.... and it will happen again. when we're in the same room i often ask my brother random wow lore questions and he answers me immediately before going (extremely suspicious) "why. is this for a fanfic." yes it is now tell me more about coastal cities in the eastern kingdom for this throwaway line im trying to write

i also cannot shut the fuck up and i love attention and friendship so i'm having a blast personally 😌 everyday i log on and go "ah :) got a new message from my Secret Connection" like we're two spies in the 17th century corresponding through letters folded under a rock

[verpineshatterrifle]

listen yes i know lots of people didnt like the season 2 finale and thats fine thats cool and im not trying to talk people into liking it but..... i did tho

i think this is what had to happen. din is SUCH a lawful neutral, and he was given a quest, and he has to do it. and so many times he’s had to face that grogu isn’t safe with him, and that he doesnt know anything about his powers, and din firmly (in highly mandalorian fashion) believes the best way for grogu to be safe is to develop his powers so he can protect himself

it wouldn’t be satisfying for din to keep grogu, he wouldn’t believe it’s the right thing to do, in many ways. he’d be going against the last directive of his clan leader, grogu would still be in danger, he wouldn’t be getting any stronger. and luke absolutely demolishing the dark troopers proves that he can keep grogu safe.

yeah how luke showed up was totally op but it HAD to be... it was the best way for din to be absolutely confident that grogu would be safe and could be trained well....

[glaciiermonarch]

Six and a half feet of beanstalk leaned up against the side of the dark blue Nismo 400R—only one of a handful of rides with Taka's name on the title—and aphotic kobicha-colored eyes appraised Kael and his predicament. Most others unfamiliar with the fathomless, cutting gaze ended up being intimidated or unsettled, which didn't bother her; and it also rendered any dirty looks against her as impervious. "How in hell you end up over here, mate?" Aussie baritone commented as monotone as ever. "Thought you'd be havin' your boys scrubbing your bike up." Taka's alignment with the gang was probably about as casual as an outsider would be, based entirely off of proximity and a deeply personal friendship with its leader. If there was a Friends and Family card for the Bastards, she probably would have received the first one. She'd taken her own Kawasaki Ninja to be maintained and cleaned up at the gang shop multiple times (always leaving a meaty tip for everyone she saw). "Might not be able to get back up on 'er if you eat shit on the pavement too hard, though." Regardless of any shit-talking, Taka had already decided to pay for whatever Kael's bike needed. "You right, mate? Need a light?"

WHERE: the elephant's trunk car wash WHEN: 5th february, just after noon WHO: anyone! ( @anchoragestarters ) CAP: 3/6

Kael was not in a good mood. But could you blame him, after the morning he'd had? Oh, sure, he'd heard about the pileup earlier that day but, elsewhere in town, he'd driven his motorbike straight into a hot, steaming pile of reindeer shit. Unwilling to make a mess of the gang bike shop by cleaning it himself, he'd been forced to take the bike down to the Elephant's Trunk and pay to get the job done (although he was not convinced any amount of washing could clear away the smell that was still trapped in his nostrils). He'd made his stance on the stench clear to the employees, the specific argument being something to the effect of 'if you keep me in here a minute longer, I'm going to be sick all over the floor', and marched outside for a smoke. He'd only just gotten the cigarette carton out of his pocket when he crashed into a stopped vehicle and tripped over it. Kael managed to land on one knee but half the cigarettes had scattered into a pile of snow on the curb and he'd caught his lip on one of his rough metal rings. As if to rub salt into the wound, he had also drawn the attention of some unsuspecting customer who'd just been waiting their turn. Hoisting himself up, his weight on the vehicle that had committed this heinous crime against him, Kael snapped his attention to this undeserving soul. "What are you looking at?"

[cosmicloved]

sorry, i’ll keep working on the actual posts i was trying to write...i might post another unorganised post, just to see what people think of the ideas i have before committing to them properly but, regardless, i’m sorry if it’s been a little spammy! esp since i’ve barely written ic stuff on any of my blogs lately!